John Gay Quotes

Love that is not jealous is neither true nor pure.

He will be loved when dead, who was envied when he was living.

Unsubstantial Death is amorous.

Love was generous precisely because it could never be immortal.

Love heightens all senses - except the common.

I may die of earthly love, or of devotion.

The others were only my wives. But you, my dear, will be my widow.

That is our ‘pointed task. Love & die.

Love and envy make a man pine, which other affections do not, because they are not so continual.

I expect we are all jealous of the women in their past, but how much less exciting if the women had not kept the bed warm.

At the end of true love is death, and only the love that ends in death is love.

They are not wise, then, who stand forth to buffet against Love; for Love rules the gods as he will, and me.

My sweetest Lesbia, let us live and love, And though the sager sort our deeds reprove, Let us not weigh them. Heaven's great lamps do dive Into their west, and straight again revive, But soon as once set is our little light, Then must we sleep one ever-during night. See Catullus 200:5.

Love is like death. It is fulfillment and an evening after which nothing more may follow.

You're mine," she whispered. "Mine, as I'm yours. And if we die, we die. All men must die, Jon Snow. But first, we'll live.

Romance is the deepest thing in life. It is deeper than reality.

Jealousy seems the absolute reversal of love. It is the swinging from the sunny warmth of the Equator to the frigid cold of the North Pole.

thus with a kiss I die

What most people call loving consists of picking out a woman and marrying her. They pick her out, I swear, I’ve seen them. As if you could pick in love, as if it were not a lightning bolt that splits your bones and leaves you staked out in the middle of the courtyard. They probably say that they pick her out because-they-love-her, I think it’s just the siteoppo. Beatrice wasn’t picked out, Juliet wasn’t picked out. You don’t pick out the rain that soaks you to a skin when you come out of a concert.

All love affairs are tragedies in the end unless the lovers die at the same moment.

You can fall in love and make love many times but there is only one bullet with your name etched on the side. And if you are lucky enough to be shot with that bullet then the wound never heals.

To put to rest any doubts you might have… I’m jealous of every man who comes within ten feet of you. I’m jealous of the clothes on your skin and the air you breathe. I’m jealous of every moment you spend out of my sight